Hands-On The HYT H1.0 Black Fluid

HYT has maintained a singular focus on incorporating fluid into the mechanics and aesthetic language of its watches since 2012. Their latest creation, the H1.0, uses a black fluid in conjunction with Super-Luminova C7 to display the time, backed up by an incredibly intricate movement utilizing thermal compensators, borosilicate capillary tubes – a conventional going train, lever escapement, and balance do the heavy lifting for actual timekeeping.

There's a certain freedom that haute horology manufactures can take when it's clear the machine they're creating is intended to tell the time, but in a novel, visually striking way. Designs don't have to be purely functional or even make sense; telling time can be expressed however the designers see fit. The why of the watch is simple, and the answer is just because.

The H1.0 doesn't reach into the past to borrow technical innovations like a tourbillon mechanism or a jumping seconds complication; instead the brand goes way back to the ideological beginning of timekeeping when clocks were powered by water, all while producing something – a watch, in theory – that looks like it's from the distant future. Philosophically, it's a hard machine to understand, but once you approach the watch, and its $49,000 price tag, as simply an exercise in engineering to the very extreme, it starts to make sense. Why not? "Mechanical art" is a popular go-to in the watch writing world to describe watches that were never really designed to be "art" at all, but rather they were built to tell the time. The H1.0 was not built to simply tell time like other watches. It was built to force observers to ask the question of why? And how? There’s a widely quoted "rule" that Arthur C. Clarke developed in the science fiction writing world, he says that "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." This notion easily applies to the H1.0. In that sense, it's closer to a piece of art than most any watch I've ever worn.

So how does it actually work? Forget the technological wizardry and let's strip it to the very core. A good starting point is to imagine that mainsprings, balance wheels, and escapements hadn't been invented. Yes, the HYT does use some of those horological innovations, but for a moment let's say the technology didn't exist. If we were to follow ancient water clocks to their logical conclusion through hundreds of years of design refinement, we might end up with something small enough to wear on the wrist that utilized some sort of liquid and a calibrated scale to display the time. Instead of using gravity for power like the ancient clocks found in almost every early civilization, it would have to be engineered to actually work around the effects of gravity, and that might happen by pressurizing a liquid and controlling and standardizing the rate at which it's allowed to depressurize. That's sort of how the H1.0 – and all HYT timepieces – work, except they've skewed towards a techno-steampunk design by incorporating more traditional timekeeping practices along with the hydraulic system. The HYT isn't technically pressurized either, but instead "pumps" a series of liquids around a tube flanked with hour markers at a controlled rate in tandem with a traditional mechanical movement keeping track of elapsed minutes.

Winding the watch is done like any other mechanical watch, but setting it is a novel treat that's sure to incite mirth in any wearer. Pull the crown out, turn, and watch as black fluid floods the hour ring, seemingly displacing clear fluid, with which it never mixes. The finessed motion of fluids inside the translucent tube is set against a teal green backdrop, lending a sci-fi vibe that completely fits the watch.

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The point at which the black and the clear fluid meet indicates the hour, and the rate at which the hour advances while setting is akin to any other watch. Like I said, it's indistinguishable from magic. There's a lot of real estate inside the 48.8mm case that the liquid display has to cover, and the 20.8mm domed sapphire frames the fluids very well. The anthracite PVD coated steel case is encapsulated by the crystal, allowing this model to carry an impressive water resistance of 50m. Again, mostly pointless and a complete indulgence on behalf of HYT, but this watch is about executing technical marvels, so why not?

Despite its massive size, it's comfortable on the wrist. The case profile and feel on the wrist are very similar to a Suunto or Garmin, but just imagine Suunto filled it with lead instead of fancy electronics. It's top heavy and sits very high on the wrist, but the crystal does inspire confidence; after all, it has the duty of protecting a very intricate and expensive mechanism. Hours are marked on the side of the steel case, making time very difficult to read, but if you're accustomed to dress watches with absolutely no hour indices, it will be a breeze. For the rest of us, you must cock your arm in a fashion which exposes the part of the case where the liquid meniscus matches up with an hour marker, and then return to standard watch-viewing position to read the minute register. Performing this whole time-telling ceremony isn't necessarily a detriment, however. The whole timekeeping instrument is a spectacle, and reading the time like a normal watch just doesn't seem fitting, anyway.